


Winning With a Bad Hand

by cancerthecrabbo



Category: Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Author has a potty mouth, Burns, Cuts, Getting Punched Sucks!, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Mild Description Of Injury, Physical hurt/comfort, Post-Wild Cards, Some Humor, Wally West/Clark Kent if you squint, Wally gets beaten up, a little ooc, very mild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 14:05:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10309874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cancerthecrabbo/pseuds/cancerthecrabbo
Summary: Wally gets his butt handed to him by the most annoying members of the Royal Flush Gang.  He gets thrown at Superman's chest, which hurts.  At least Clark has nice pecs.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so irresponsible; I should be writing a thousand other things than this.

Getting punched by a man who has superhuman strength _hurts_. Normally, Wally would heal up real quick and be back on his feet in no time. However, Ten has some crazy power behind his punches, and if he has superhuman regeneration then their respective 'super-ness' is canceled out. Basically, it's like he's a normal guy getting punched by a really buff dude.

Not only that, but he's also getting zapped by the asshole with the lasers who sounds like a prepubescent douche.

They toss him around the room as if he's a leaf caught in a very angry wind. Everything stings and burns and he's getting quite the headache from their not-so-snarky comments. The big one keeps telling the one with the stupid voice that Superman is a dickhead. So it's only right that when he gets slammed against the 10th wall in half as many minutes that _Superman_ is here to bitch slap the dude.

So now he's blacking out from the pain. And, the fact that his head conked against the aforementioned wall with a sound not unlike a coconut being slammed into the ground.

It really, truly sucks.

He wakes up to chaos- correction, even more chaos. Superman is yelling at him to dismantle the bomb and he tries to. Really, he does. Unfortunately the Joker is an ass and he doesn't know what to do. He's panicking and _he doesn't know what to do—_

**Ah!** His stupid idiot brain chimes in with, **how about you take the bomb and fucking run?** So he does. He grabs the bomb. With his hands.

Flash is off, nothing but a streak to everyone around him. He's running so fast that his skin is pulling against the air and something big is happening. Something is pulling him.

But, suddenly, he's at the edge of the city where there's no one and nothing to blow up but dust and bones. He slows, and releases bomb and backpedals. He's about 200 meters away from the blast when the bomb hits the ground but he's still running. The blast begins to catch up to him – he needs to be at least 800 meters away to not die in the coming milliseconds.

Wally runs. His feet dig into the ground and he's laughing; he laughs because if he doesn't he'll lose his mind. He skips across the dirt and the lightning surrounds him and cradles him as the explosion damn near overtakes him. There is no wind, but he's going fast enough to pretend he's a hurricane, it pulls and pushes and—

There's the casino and a really worried-looking Superman, so Wally ignores the burning across his back and wrapping around his slim waist, arms, and legs. He forgets the bruises forming underneath his skin for now. He knows he'll be sore as hell tomorrow.

Right now, though, Clark Kent needs him. The Justice League needs each other. So he grins – he doesn't really need to fake it that much – and they take down the Joker.

* * *

They're back at the Watchtower when Wally finally stops and lets go. It's hard to let the lightning roam when he's been gripping it, white-knuckling his way past the pain curling around his whole body.

"Wally," Clark says. And he crumbles.

Like so much ash, he crumbles against the resident boy scout and sighs.

He doesn't open his eyes until much, much later. He's only wearing soft grey sweatpants and a whole role of bandages. Wally's laying in a bed right next to John's. Shayera is sitting between them, a hand in each of theirs. On the other side of him is a vacant chair holding only glasses and a book. Clark must be getting coffee, then. Diana is in civvies, too, and waves at him.

J'onn gives him a little smile from across the room, and Wally can only return a twitch of his eyebrows and lips. The Martian doesn't look surprised.

"There you are," someone says. It's Bruce.

Wally's voice is hoarse, "Here I am."

Shayera squeezes his hand and releases it only to hand him a cup of water. It has a silly straw.

He drinks gratefully and finally has the strength to smile up at her and the others. It's a welcome sight for Clark who returns with a whole tray of coffee. It's funny to see the powerful Superman toting a silver tray with coffee, milk, and cream.

There is no coffee for Wally. What he needs is rest and enough pain medicine to kill a whale, which is to say just enough to get him loopy.

"You had second and third degree burns on your back, cauterized cuts all over, and you bruised your stomach." Diana comments. She looks pained.

"At least my heart didn't stop," Wally crowed.

* * *

Bruce, as usual, has shit to do. He leaves, but not without breaking the rules of the universe. He ruffles Wally's hair, leaving the bright locks even messier than before.

Wally's too tired to appreciate that fully as of the moment, but later he'll gush about it.

The other leaguers stay – Shayera wouldn't leave him or John if the gods themselves asked her to. Diana takes Bruce's place, playing guardian even though the danger has passed. J'onn enjoys the company and Clark knows that there are many capable heroes ready to defend Metropolis for a few more hours.

So, it's not that bad.


End file.
